At eight o'clock on the morning of October 21, the entire Swansea squad boarded the team bus and set off for Hartlepool, a port town in northeast England on the edge of the North Sea.
This would be a long journey.
The bus was expected to take five and a half to six hours to travel from Swansea to Hartlepool.
Lynn sat on the bus in a rather poor mood.
When he considered that Newcastle United were even farther north than Hartlepool — aning even farther away from Swansea — his mood sank to rock bottom.
If Swansea were promoted to the Premier League in the future, or if they ran into Newcastle United in a dostic cup competition, then an away match would require more than six hours of travel one way.
He tried to settle his emotions.
Once the bus entered the motorway, he stood up and walked over to Pedretti, asking in a gentle tone, "Benoît, you've been performing very well recently. Have you had any problems living in Swansea?"
Hearing Lynn ask about his life, Pedretti naturally shrugged and said, "Everything's good. Swansea is a wonderful city. I especially like walking and playing football by the sea. It's just that the weather has turned cold recently, so I haven't gone."
Lynn stood up and said, "That's good. If you run into any problems, tell directly."
"Don't worry, Boss. I know you'll definitely solve any problem for us."
Lynn nodded.
Before leaving, he casually patted Pedretti on the shoulder.
As his hand ca down, a card appeared in his palm and was pressed into Pedretti's body with that motion.
One-Touch Passing S-card.
Today, Lynn had exchanged for another three S-cards.
He then walked to Cromwell's seat and placed one hand on Cromwell's shoulder.
At the sa ti, he sent a Super Sub card into his body.
He said to Cromwell, "Oliver, you're starting today. The journey is still long, so you can take a nap now."
Cromwell raised his head, looking half-asleep. "Boss, if you hadn't disturbed , I'd already be asleep right now."
"Heh, sorry. My fault. Keep resting."
Then Lynn ca to Grosso.
Grosso treated him with great respect.
After all, Grosso had struggled in the lower leagues for far too long and had never earned much money.
At Swansea, not only was his treatnt good, but he had also found a strong sense of presence within this young group.
"Boss, do you need to tell sothing?"
Lynn smiled and sat down beside him. "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to ask how your life has been recently. It must be difficult for an Italian to adapt to life in Britain, right?"
Grosso shook his head slightly. "Swansea is very good. The local residents are friendly, and public safety is much better than in Italy. Most importantly, I really enjoy the food and scenery."
Lynn smiled and nodded. "Then I'm relieved. Your birthday is at the end of next month. Do you have plans to go back to Italy for a holiday and celebrate with your family and friends?"
Grosso looked at Lynn in surprise. "Why would I do that?"
Lynn smiled. "To be honest, English football doesn't have a winter break. I'm afraid you might not be used to it. I'm currently planning the squad rotation for December and January as well. Instead of forcing rotations when the ti cos, it's better to prepare in advance.
"Think about it. If you take ten days or two weeks off at the end of November, when you co back, you'll be better able to contribute to the team during the difficult December and January schedule. Other players will also rest briefly in batches.
"If you want to return to Italy, I'll approve it. Of course, if two out of Evra, Rau, Wellesley, and Nelson are injured, then you won't be able to take leave."
Grosso laughed. "All right. I'll think about it carefully and tell you my decision next month. Thank you, Boss."
Lynn smiled warmly. Before leaving, he also patted Grosso on the shoulder, and a card sank into Grosso's body.
One-Touch Passing S-card.
Lynn had once again spent all the points he had saved. Right now, he needed to improve the team's overall technical ability.
As long as a player participated in attack, whether a full-back or a forward, he needed to be given a One-Touch Passing card!
One-Touch Passing improved a player's ability to handle the ball first ti. It was not a style-shaping card.
It would not make players stop controlling or carrying the ball. Rather, when they needed to play first ti, their success rate would be higher, and their technique would be sharper.
This was the most basic requirent for technical football.
If a team could not complete effective one-touch passing in succession, the speed of circulation would slow down, and the attack would no longer be fluid.
Lynn returned to his seat on the bus and picked up a financial magazine to read. This was his way of passing the ti.
At the sa ti, it could also help him recover mories buried deep in his mind about major financial events.
That way, he might uncover new investnt opportunities.
Whenever this happened, Owen Glendower would run over and sit across the aisle from Lynn to ask for advice.
After truly learning that Lynn had started from nothing and beco wealthy on his own, Glendower treated Lynn almost like a god.
He was interested in nothing except football and financial investnt.
Lynn's advice to him was first to manage his monthly wages properly, gradually accumulate initial capital, then slowly understand the financial markets.
Occasionally, when Glendower made investnt choices, Lynn would also give him personal suggestions.
Glendower had once again co to seek knowledge, and since Lynn was only passing the ti anyway, he did not mind chatting with him to relieve boredom.
When it ca to sensitivity toward the broad direction of European and Arican policies combined with market trends, Lynn's half-baked knowledge was still enough to convince people wholeheartedly.
Owen Glendower was discussing the direction of the European economy with Lynn when suddenly, the bus stopped.
Lynn imdiately looked up toward the front in confusion.
On a motorway, unless they were passing through a checkpoint, vehicles basically did not stop.
The mont Lynn raised his head, an ominous feeling rose in his heart.
Traffic jam!
After waiting five minutes, the cars ahead still had not moved.
Lynn turned to coach Eric Morecambe and said, "Get off and see what's happening up ahead."
Morecambe imdiately got off the bus.
Another five minutes passed before he ran back and boarded again, saying to Lynn, "There's a huge jam ahead! It stretches for a full kiloter. There's been a serious multi-car collision up front!"
The players on the bus stood up one after another. After looking at each other, they began discussing anxiously.
"What do we do?"
"My God! If we're stuck here for an hour or two, we might be late!"
"Can we postpone the match?"
Lynn forced himself to calm down.
He picked up his phone and called Mo Yuan, asking him to find the Football Association's number, report their current situation, and apply to delay the kick-off ti.
Ten minutes later, the traffic still showed no sign of clearing.
The accident ahead was too serious. Neither tow trucks nor ambulances had arrived yet, and because the accident was major, the traffic police did not dare handle it carelessly.
They were afraid of damaging the accident scene and making it impossible to determine responsibility, because that stretch of road had no traffic caras.
Lynn's mood beca sowhat restless.
Another three minutes later, Mo Yuan called back.
"Lynn, things don't look good. The FA says they can't accept our application! Their attitude is very firm. No matter what, the match ti cannot be delayed. But they can accept Swansea canceling the match due to circumstances."
"What does that an? Cancel the match? Will it be replayed another day?"
"No! We'll be directly punished with a loss! Because Hartlepool United firmly refused to change the match date! They said their own fixture schedule is also heavy, and arranging another ti would disrupt their plans."
"Fuck them! Hartlepool United are trying to rob us while we're down! Is the FA's attitude really that firm?"
"Yeah. They don't want to spend extra manpower and resources either. You know, reorganizing a match is just trouble to them."
"But I'm stuck on the motorway right now. This is force majeure. What am I supposed to do? Fly there?"
"The FA says traffic congestion simply isn't a convincing enough reason!"
"All right. Those bastards. They just look down on Division Three and don't care whether Division Three clubs live or die! I'll think of sothing myself."
Lynn hung up, now sowhat irritable.
A disaster had fallen from the sky and created trouble for him. It made him want to lose his temper.
After all, ever since gaining this second life, most things had gone very smoothly for him.
But he still forced himself to stay restrained, repeatedly telling himself inwardly:
'When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a man, it will first wear down his body and bitter his mind…'
The reason the FA refused to postpone the match was obvious. Professional league matches had broadcasting contracts attached to them.
If a match were delayed, it would harm the interests of the broadcaster!
Making television viewers wait in front of their screens would leave them dissatisfied.
As for replaying it another day, that would require rearranging the referee team and negotiating with the television broadcaster.
It was not impossible. It was simply that Division Three was not worth the FA mobilizing people and resources to deal with such "worthless trouble."
Lynn worked hard to calm himself.
There were only three ways to get to Hartlepool.
By plane.
If they wanted to reach northeast England, Swansea would first have to go to Cardiff, then fly to Newcastle Airport. Flying itself was fast!
But traveling from Swansea to Cardiff took ti. Security checks and boarding took ti.
The flight took ti. After arriving at Newcastle Airport, transferring to Hartlepool would still take ti.
Add it all up, and it would not be faster than the bus!
Second was by train.
Because Wales had many mountainous areas, taking the train from Swansea to northeast England — from the coast of southwest Wales to the coast of northeast England — ant crossing county after county inside Britain on a bizarre S-shaped route.
The total ti would not be faster than traveling as directly as possible by motorway!
So in the end, the only real option remained the bus.
Now, there was no ti to change plans.
Lynn imdiately called Lin Jiajie, asking him to inform Swansea mayor Charles of the situation and have Charles call the transport departnt.
Ten minutes later, a traffic police car ca alongside the bus. An officer got out and boarded. After shaking hands with Lynn, Lynn explained the situation.
Then the police car led the way, guiding the bus against traffic on the one-way motorway and escorting it to a junction, where the bus turned onto the route back.
Half an hour later, the bus returned to Swansea.
The players thought Lynn had already given up.
But Lynn told the driver to take the bus to his house.
The players were completely confused, and Lynn did not explain.
The match was scheduled for four o'clock in the afternoon. It was already nearly ten in the morning.
With only six hours left before kick-off, no matter how one looked at it, the team seed unlikely to reach Hartlepool in ti!
As the bus headed toward Lynn's ho, Lynn called Cath Carter.
"Hello, Mr. Manager. Are you so bored on the team bus that you finally rembered ?"
"Cath, bring the BBC Wales cara van to the outside of my house. I'll give you tonight's best news!"
"Hmm? What's going on?"
"I'm short on ti, so I won't chat. I've given you the opportunity. Whether you seize it is up to you."
"All right, I'm moving imdiately!"
After hanging up, Lynn called Erin.
When the bus stopped outside the Lin family mansion, Lynn was the first to get off.
The other players and coaches followed him off the bus.
Everyone saw the Lin family mansion, and so could not help swallowing.
The place occupied a vast area and had typical European-style décor. In particular, the road from the main gate to the villa had an artificial fountain in the middle.
It was truly a dream ho.
Lynn had no ti to discuss his mansion with them.
He said seriously to everyone, "We're short on ti. Take your luggage bags now and follow ."
At that mont, BBC Wales's interview van arrived.
Before the vehicle had even stopped, Carter leaned out of the window and shouted toward Lynn, "Hey, Lynn! Weren't you supposed to be going to Hartlepool for the match? Why are you back?"
Without turning his head, Lynn said, "There was a serious accident on the motorway and a huge traffic jam. We had no choice but to co back and choose a new motorway route."
"But even taking another motorway route won't get you there in ti!"
Lynn said nothing more.
He would not give up three points to the opponent so easily.
That would be letting them off too cheaply.
Whether by plane or by train, it was already certain they would not make it.
And if they took the motorway, changing routes seed, in everyone's eyes, certain to be too late as well!
But Lynn wanted to take a gamble.
He led the players and coaches to the front of his garage. He pressed the button for the electric garage door, and it slowly rose.
The players and coaches standing outside the garage all stared in shock when they saw what was inside.
At least seven or eight dazzling supercars were parked inside!
Jaguar, Aston Martin, Porsche, Lamborghini, Pagani, Maybach, Ford Mustang, Cadillac, Ferrari…
Whenever Lynn earned three million pounds, he would buy himself a car as a reward.
So were for business use. For example, ever since taking over Swansea, he had only driven a business Bentley.
Others were supercars he had used in the past to make himself look flashier while traveling around Britain.
The cars in this garage were those supercars.
These supercars left Swansea's players and coaches completely dumbfounded!
Every one of them had eyes filled with obsession and shock.
Lynn could hold a car show!
Just then, the roar of sports cars ca from nearby.
Everyone turned to look and saw three supercars circle around the fountain in front of the Lin family villa before stopping in front of the garage.
The leading car was the Ferrari driven by Erin.
Erin got out and said to Lynn, "The car's yours. Just give any car to drive back."
Lynn opened the door of another garage and said to her, "The keys are hanging on the wall. Pick any one you like."
The cars inside this garage were relatively ordinary, but they were still all worth a great deal.
They simply lacked the eye-catching impact of supercars.
Behind Erin's bright red Ferrari were a Maserati and an Alfa Roo.
Erin, who had a special fondness for Italian cars, had asked people to bring over her three cars. It counted as a small favor to Lynn.
Lynn said to the group, who were already too shocked to speak, "Those with good driving skills and long driving experience, go drive. Follow . Today, we're going to fucking cross mountains and valleys and fight our way to Hartlepool!"
With that, he directly got into Erin's bright red Ferrari.
He rolled down the passenger-side window and shouted at Hughes, "Emlyn, what are you standing there for? We're fighting for every second right now. We don't have ti to stand around in a daze!"
Hughes snapped back to himself and imdiately got into the Ferrari's passenger seat.
Then he ran back out, picked up the bag he had left on the ground, and quickly climbed back into the Ferrari.
The players were like children entering a candy paradise.
They rushed into the garage together. Those quick enough grabbed keys from the wall, then shot into the cars.
One after another, they shouted and yelled excitedly as they started the supercars.
The scene captured by BBC Wales's interview van outside Lynn's ho left Carter utterly stunned.
A total of twelve supercars drove out one after another, their engines roaring like thunder!
She lost her composure slightly and shouted at the driver, "Follow them! Cara, make sure you film this properly!"
The twelve supercars were like a colorful dragon racing quickly through the streets of Swansea.
They could not unleash their speed inside the city, but once they turned onto the motorway, the BBC Wales interview van failed to keep up for even one minute before losing them!
This was probably the flashiest away match expedition in the history of world football!
Twelve supercars began tearing down the motorway at breakneck speed!
At the front, Lynn drove the Ferrari, his eyes filled with murderous intent.
Fuck!
Hartlepool United!
You want three free points?
I refuse to give them to you!
User Comments
0 comments from readers